


Before the Tyrant

by crimsonseastorm



Category: The Transformers (Comic), Transformers
Genre: Angst, Dark, M/M, Potentially Dubious Consent, Rare Pairing, Rough Sex, Sexual Violence, Smut, Spark Merging, Sticky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-19
Updated: 2010-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 18:51:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonseastorm/pseuds/crimsonseastorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thundercracker is captured and dragged before Megatron following the events of AHM #12 (potential spoilers).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Tyrant

**Title:** Before the Tyrant  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Warnings:** Dub-Con/Non-Con, Violence, Spark Merging, Sticky, Rough Violent Sex, Dark  
 **Verse:** IDW AU  
 **Characters:** Megatron, Thundercracker, Megs/TC  
 **Disclaimer:** Transformers is HasTak’s and not mine.  
 **Prompt:** Megatron/Thundercracker: Unreasonable Demands for   
**A/N:** Post AHM #12 but does not really include the ongoing, so AU it was.  

****************  
Pain spiked up through his legs as his knees impacted the ground hard enough to throw him off balance, to snap his denta together and he threw his cuffed hands forward in an attempt to keep his face from impacting the ground. A hand gripped one wing painfully tight, hard enough that the metal dented and his sensors screamed. He hissed in pain and there was a cruel chuckle from Bonecrusher as a second hand steadied him, dragged him higher by his injured shoulder vent. He bit down sharply on the noise that rose to his vocalizer and cursed inwardly.

“The Traitor, like you wanted Lord Megatron,” the glee was apparent in Motormaster’s voice, no doubt imagining the perks he’d be receiving as he backed away and Thundercracker’s optics flared in surprise.

 _Megatron was alive…?_

“Dismissed,” the cold tone of the Decepticon Leader chilled his spark as the powerful mech leisurely stood and the blue Seeker wrenched his optics away from the motion down to his cuffed hands as the other two left as quickly as they could.

His processors raced; Megatron being alive changed everything. He had thought, had believed that the other had offlined and without a Leader to guide them, to rally them… not only was the bomb dishonorable, it was also pointless. Yet here Megatron stood before him and that turned a poor choice into a severe err in judgment. Would he have made the choice had he had known? Undoubtedly, but he still would have also been prepared to face his Leader.

“Thundercracker.”

“My Lord,” he fought the urge to shrink away from the disapproving tone and kept his optics focused sharply on the ground before him.

“You have doubted me from the beginning, I know this,” Megatron’s pedes came within his line of sight, “but neither have you made any indication of treason, until now.” He paused as though Thundercracker were going to protest but the blue Seeker was not Starscream and he knew better than to provoke their Leader when he was already angry. “Is it unreasonable of me to ask for the loyalty of my soldiers? To be certain that they are compliant? To know that they will follow my orders without question?” This time the tone demanded an answer, even though it was clear what Megatron wanted to hear.

“No my Lord,” he tried to keep his voice firm, as though he was confident in himself, in the answer he’d given but still he doubted. His entire life seemed to be a continuous string of uncertain choices: his trine, the faction, disobeying orders and now in whether Megatron had the right to demand such things. What had he offered them but the chance for freedom through a bloody and violent war? He could cast them aside as he pleased, send them into reckless battles where certain death awaited and shouldn’t a leader be as loyal to his soldiers as they were to him?

A strong hand gripped his jaw, tilted his head upwards and the blue Seeker unwillingly met Megatron’s gaze, “You think too much dear Thundercracker.” The endearment sounded cold, false and he desperately hoped it wasn’t repeated, not in that tone. He knew he thought too much. He’d been told that, countless times by countless mechs and still his processors wandered, dwelled on things it shouldn’t. He didn’t think that being uncertain was such a terrible thing, one couldn’t be confident in their choices all of the time. Surely not even Megatron was sure of the path he had chosen at every moment?

“What, I wonder, do you want of me that I’ve not given you?” Megatron tilted his head, searching Thundercracker’s optics and the blue Seeker floundered, uncertain. Had that been rhetorical or was his Leader truly looking for an answer? Before he managed to think of something to say the Tyrant continued and the words turned sharply cruel, the hand painful as metal groaned under merciless fingers, “I have allowed you to remain in my army though you doubted, I have allowed you a place in my command trine and I have allowed you to share my berth. What more could you desire Thundercracker?”

Something told him that Megatron wanted to hear more than a simple ‘I don’t know’ but that was the truth, he had never held any illusions when it came to the Decepticon Leader but neither had he ever desired to follow Optimus Prime and he shifted slightly, still unsettled. Was not answering him better than a placeholder or words that meant nothing? He didn’t know. Surely the former gladiator realized that Thundercracker himself didn’t know and that to demand an answer to a question that was not only loaded but also unreasonable was impossible?

The back of a vicious, unyielding hand connected suddenly with the side of his face, his vision went dark for a moment and his side scraped along the floor as his momentum carried him sideways; clearly he had taken too long to decide on an answer. He shifted slowly, trying to let his vision clear and push himself up. It was difficult to move with his hands restrained but thankfully while the cuffs restricted his movement they didn’t completely deny him use of his hands. Still he hadn’t moved fast enough for Megatron and a pede caught his side, kicked him onto his back. His vents heaved with the effort to draw in air and vicious fingers dug into his neck cabling to draw him back to his knees.

He wondered briefly if Starscream was ever this terrified for his life or if it was simply understood that Megatron wouldn’t offline him. It was a pity that Thundercracker had no such assurances. He’d committed treason and it was a far more serious offense than his trineleader’s simple backstabbing, the Tyrant’s plan would’ve worked marvelously; the Autobots, the humans, they would have all offlined were it not for the blue Seeker and Megatron knew it.

He was thrown to the ground, wings sliding and scrapping painfully against the concrete floor. The sensors in his injured shoulder flared with pain that had Thundercracker shuddering. Whether Skywarp had meant to kill him or not he had certainly helped Megatron in dishing out punishment. Thundercracker kept his denta gritted, determined not to make a sound; he wasn’t weak, he could take whatever reparation his Leader thought necessary.

Energon trickled down his faceplates and that hand gripped firmly around his jaw again, ignored the fluid that ran over it, “What would you demand of me?”

Thundercracker grasped for something, _anything_ to offer and the first ones the popped into his processors—recognition, praise—were nothing that Megatron would offer him. The next were even more unreasonable—care, compassion, monogamy and for a brief instance something akin to love—if he wanted those he should defect now, not when his sometime berthmate’s slogan was ‘Peace through Tyranny’ what place did his wants have there?

His optics offlined and the other growled viciously, “Fool.”

He keened in agony as a hand dug into the sheared metal of his shoulder vent, his vision darkened with white hot pain and he realized that this was something he had wanted: to be noticed again, to not fade into the background again like he had been before they’d shared a berth and in this moment he was alone with Megatron for the first time since they’d arrived on this backwater planet. In its own way this was recognition but how much further did he have to take it for true acknowledgement, to get even this he had committed _treason_ against the Decepticons, against his brothers.

Was it idiotic to remain? Anyone else would’ve found a different lover, one whose hands didn’t roughly dig into their frames or dent the metal of their wings in a moment that was supposed to be passionate and personal but this was _Megatron_ he wouldn’t find that here. Still for some unfathomable reason, he had chosen Thundercracker and that meant he saw something that made the blue Seeker special, different from anyone else. This may have been a plea for but the blue Seeker wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ be cast aside; Megatron had become his one certainty, infallible above all other things and he was utterly lost without that constant.

He relaxed, ceased all attempts to shy away and then his Leader paused, canted his head to focus sharply down at him as Thundercracker onlined his optics, “You’ve decided.”

The blue Seeker had stopped thinking, had stopped considering and maybe it was stupid but he’d done more idiotic things in his life than this he was sure. Everyone was always saying that he thought too much any way and now he didn’t pause to dissect the words that came out of his mouth, “acknowledgement, recognition… _anything_.” As soon as they were out, he wanted to take them back; that was one of the most preposterous things that he could have asked for. He had no control over Megatron, no claim on his attention and it was foolish, he knew it was.

Those vicious optics narrowed and Thundercracker’s cuffed hands were forced upwards, strong thighs shoved his apart; he resisted, hesitant and uncertain. This wasn’t what he meant, not here and not now, not this way. His sometimes lover was by no means gentle in their regular interfaces but what choice did he have here and now? He _had_ asked for anything. Metal shrieked as the Decepticon Leader’s fingers tore across his panel and the blue Seeker frantically send the codes for it to open, hoping that compliance would alleviate some of the pain but he held no delusions; this would hurt. Some small part of him wanted it, needed it and thought that he deserved this for his betrayal.

Megatron drove into him, a hand clamped over his mouth to silence the shriek of pain at the unprepared entry. His lover, however loosely the term applied, didn’t pause, continued to slam roughly into his valve and the blue Seeker forced himself to spread his legs further, to drive his hips upwards to meet the thrusts through the pain. The line between that and pleasure was quickly blurring as Megatron began to hit the cluster of sensors at the top of his valve and he began to produce lubricant that eased the slide of the thick spike in and out just a little.

He told himself again that this was what he wanted, attention and acknowledgement; Megatron completely focused on him. He brought his hands up, enough space between the cuffs to scrape his fingers across the chassis above him in an attempt to get the powerful mech to slow down, to let him adjust. Megatron growled in his audio, clearly displaced and he let out a deep groan—pain, pleasure he couldn’t tell for sure—and arched against the gray mech.

The hand stayed firmly clamped over his mouth, though the only things escaping his vocalizer were whines and low groans. It became necessary again when Megatron gripped his injured wing and pulled Thundercracker down against him with each thrust wrenching a pained, muffled cry from him. The blue Seeker could hardly keep up with the rush of sensations, one moment pleasure and the next agony until they blended together in a cacophony of overwhelming feelings that he couldn’t make sense out of.

He wasn’t aware his cockpit and chestplates had slid aside, didn’t realize his spark chamber opened until Megatron stopped, spike deeply seated within him. The only sound that was made was the high whir of his fans, of the Tyrant’s fans and the hiss of his vents as they tried to cool his systems; the light of his spark played across his partner’s faceplates, then cruel fingers wrapped around his spark. He hissed with pain and then froze completely, hardly daring to breathe.

The thought that he could be offlined had been driven from his mind by the desperate need to get this over with and it snapped back into sharp focus now with the knowledge of how easy it would be for Megatron to simply crush his spark, how many lives the gladiator had already ended. If he had thought asking the Tyrant for recognition was unreasonable… demanding his spark, even unconsciously, was surely a death sentence.

“You are mine,” the other snarled at last, his chestplates sliding open without warning and their chassis’ slammed together; Thundercracker’s mouth opened in a silent cry as their sparks forcefully merged and sheer strength of who and what Megatron was overtook him. He was barely allowed a brief glance and even then all he could really identify was certainty. Clear as crystal, as rock solid, unmoving and as certain as the sky; the Decepticon Leader would not fail. He was vaguely aware of those hips continuing while his own memories, his own thoughts were laid bare and rapidly picked through, Thundercracker too overwhelmed to put up any resistance.

He shuddered suddenly with overload, his spark flaring and valve clenching tightly around his partner; Megatron roared as he followed, claiming Thundercracker with a final drive of his hips and another grind of their chassis’ together. Their vents heaved together a moment, the Decepticon Leader collected himself within kliks and pushed away, his chestplates sliding back together and panel clicking shut; he looked as presentable as always as he stared down at a violated and injured Thundercracker. The blue Seeker let his hands fall back above his head and his legs were still spread, lubricant and energon dripping from his valve onto the ground below.

“You are mine,” Megatron repeated coolly and his tone brooked no argument, he had forgiven betrayals before or else Starscream would have offlined lone ago and Thundercracker’s transgression, while severe was only the first instance. Any others and it was clear that the blue Seeker would be more trouble than he was worth.

“Yes, my Lord,” he acquiesced, his armour sliding back into place with a low hiss of pain; the statement was true again, he would be loyal because Megatron demanded it.


End file.
